How did this happen
by TheHunter747
Summary: Voldemort - and let's face it, Dumbledore too - made some pretty convoluted plans. Here are my thoughts on how their plans could have backfired on them spectacularly. Obviously AU.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I got bored, and started trying to think of every possible way one of Voldemort's schemes could have gone wrong. God help us all, I'm going to nitpick the Harry Potter series. Don't forget to send in suggestions for ways to screw up Voldemort's - or Dumbledore's - schemes. This time, though, it's Voldemort getting screwed over.

* * *

The mudblood was dead on the floor beside his feet, and the green-eyed baby sitting in the crib not even a foot away from him was staring at him in confusion, no doubt wondering what had happened to his mother. Sneering, the Dark Lord lifted his wand, aiming for the boy's forehead, and speaking the words he had spoken twice tonight already.

"Avada Kedavra!"

A rush of air preceded the flash of deadly green light as it raced towards the boy. Just before it hit him, a glowing, blood-red shield snapped into place in front of the boy, and the Killing Curse rebounded off it, rushing back towards it's caster. Voldemort was so shocked by the turn of events, that he didn't react swiftly enough, instead being hit directly by the spell. The man's body was blasted backwards, but he knew nothing of this, as his vision had already gone black.

* * *

Slowly, Tom Marvolo Riddle began regaining consciousness. Blinking, he looked around himself at what appeared to be an office of some kind. The desk in front of him had a name plate on it that read, "G. Rosenthal - Reaper 3rd Class". Even more confused now, the self-proclaimed Dark Lord started to try and gather his magic, intending to Apparate elsewhere.

"That won't work."

A young woman, with blond highlights in her hair, and a smart, light-grey suit walked into the room, closing the door behind her, not even flinching as it seemed to dissolve into the wall seamlessly.

"Now then, let's get started. My name is Gillian Rosenthal, Reaper 3rd Class. I've been assigned to oversee your transition, Mr Riddle."

"My name is Lord Voldemort! And what transition do you speak of?"

Flipping open a manila file, the woman made an annotation, before looking up at him once more. "Yes, we are aware of your chosen alias, Mr Riddle. As for the transition, I understand. It can be a little unsettling. Please try to remain calm, Mr Riddle. You see, you are dead, and this is an assessment to determine where to send you."

"Dead? Don't be ridiculous, woman. I am Lord Voldemort. I am immortal, I cannot die. I have taken precautions."

"Precautions? Against death? Oh, yes, here it is. Apparently, at your time of death, you had created a total of five Horcruxi. Interesting choice, though not much variety. You could have thrown in a phylactery or two. Perhaps an Osirian ritual? It's always nice to get someone who wants to escape death that appreciates a bit of difference in their patterns. In any case, Mr Riddle, your Horcruxi do not work. Quite frankly, the only thing that will stop you from dying is the Elixir of Life, and the big cheese hasn't let a single Philosopher's Stone out of his sight since Flamel beat him at poker back in the 1400's. A Shinigami has already been dispatched to retrieve the artifacts in question. Now, let's go over your file...oh dear."

"What?" For the first time in nearly forty years, Tom Riddle sounded unsure of himself. He didn't like it.

"Seems you ticked someone important off, Mr Riddle. I'm afraid you've already got a notification in your file. 'Go straight to Hell. Do not pass go. Do not collect $200.'" Seeing the Dark Lord's blank look, Gillian sighed. "None of you wizards seem to like board games. Just once, I'd like to talk to someone who can appreciate that joke. Oh well." Pressing a button on an oddly shaped metal box, she spoke. "Brad? Can you send Larry in? Got one for him to escort."

The door reappeared, and a tall, red-haired male with two wings walked in. "Hey Gillian. This the one?"

"Hi Larry. Yeah, apparently he's been really bad. Not even a chance at redemption. Hey, is the poker night still on this Saturday?"

"Well, I'll take him downstairs. And yeah, it is. Big D's gonna be there, apparently."

"Sweet. Not every day you get to clean out Death's bank account. See you then."

"Sure thing. Come on buddy, I haven't got all day." Slowly, Voldemort got to his feet, mind still in shock so badly that he didn't register anything until he was in Hell. The first thing he saw was a sword slicing towards his neck. He got out the first few seconds of a scream before it was cut off abruptly.

* * *

Seventeen years later...

* * *

"Harry Potter!"

The group was on their feet instantly, cheering and applauding. Sirius Black, who had spent a few nights in Azkaban before it was discovered that he was innocent, had finally settled down, dating Emmeline Vance for sixteen years, before she finally made an honest man out of him last summer. Remus Lupin, who had discovered that in spite of his lycanthropy, Sirius' cousin Nymphadora Tonks was still more than willing to date him. They had tied the knot three years ago, and were expecting their first child in mid-August. The Weasleys, who had been friends of the family for many years, and the Grangers, who had joined the group when the children started Hogwarts together, had all turned out to witness their various children receiving their graduation certificates from Hogwarts.

Albus Dumbledore handed the roll of parchment to the boy he saw as a grandson, and thanked whatever deities might exist that he had discovered the truth about Horcruxi all those years ago, and changed his plans accordingly. Looking out over the students and their families, he could plainly see that the magical world was stronger than ever. Everything was good, and he was glad.

* * *

A/N: Yeah, Dumbledore's slightly manipulative here, but in that 'I-genuinely-want-what's-best-for-the-world' way. I also love the idea of Voldemort getting his ass handed to him by a random office worker. Don't forget to review, and thanks for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Here comes chapter two, and this time I decided that Dumbledore deserved to suffer. I'm in a bit of an anti-Albus mood right now. I own none of the characters you recognize, and there's a fifty-fifty chance I own the ones you don't.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore was many things - Chief Warlock of the British Wizengamot, Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Warlocks, a self-proclaimed 'Leader of the Light', one of the most powerful wizards in recent history, and the only one in over one hundred and seventy years to attain the rank of Grand Sorcerer, and, as of two minutes ago, shitting himself.

Not literally of course, but it was close. The reason? Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was under attack. The date was September 1st, 1991, and the new first years had just been sorted into their Houses. Then an explosion had rocked the school as he had stood up, and troops wearing at least seventeen separate uniforms had entered the Great Hall, immediately seizing several students and holding blades to their throats. Albus was an educator, and also sought to preserve life as much as possible, and so had surrendered meekly in exchange for the children being unharmed. All of a sudden, a man in a ridiculous - and that was saying something, when it was Albus Dumbledore talking - outfit designed to resemble a scorpion sprang into the room, a blood-red stone clenched in his fist.

"Scorpions, fall back! We have the Stone!"

The men with scorpion badges on their uniforms began to exit the hall, when the others opened fire on them. Deadly curses, only a handful of which Albus even recognized, were being tossed around like party favours, and the students and staff were being hit in the crossfire. Some of the braver students were casting shield charms. The more sensible students were hiding under tables and benches. Most of them, though, were screaming and running around like headless chickens. Two hours after it started, the assault on Hogwarts was over. The Aurors had responded quickly, but had been unable to prevent the theft of one of the greatest magical treasures in the world, the Philosopher's Stone. Nicholas Flamel had been contacted and, ironically enough, had promptly died of a heart attack.

The final tally was three members of staff dead, seventy-two students dead, with two hundred and fifty seven more injured, and twenty Aurors dead or critically wounded. Among the fallen were Professors Trelawney, Snape, and McGonagall, as well as; Draco Malfoy, Percy Weasley, Penelope Clearwater, Alicia Spinnet, Oliver Wood, Marietta Edgecombe, Cedric Diggory, Ernie Macmillan, and Susan Bones. Most of Voldemort's supporters had had their children killed too, though Albus doubted it was intentional. He was only glad Amelia Bones had also fallen in battle, as he wouldn't have wished that situation on anyone. Surviving the death of your last living relative was something he hoped never to experience himself.

The Aurors were furious, and upon learning from the recountings of the event what the thieves had been after, and who had both placed it in the school and spread word of it's current location to the criminal underworld, took it upon themselves to teach one Albus Dumbledore the difference between regular brutality, and police brutality. They later claimed he was resisting arrest, and were cleared of all charges against them. As for Dumbledore, he got his wish to never see his brother die. Aberforth claimed custody of one Harry James Potter shortly before Albus' trial, stopping by after his conviction only to break his brother's nose and spit in his face one last time.

"I told you to stop meddling, Albus. Now look what you've done."

Three weeks later, Albus Dumbledore died in Azkaban, a broken man. Voldemort's spirit had been discovered during the cleanup after the battle, and both he and Quirinus Quirrell were currently guests of the Unspeakables. Three years later, every Horcrux had been tracked down and destroyed, an obscure exorcism ritual taking care of the one in Harry Potter's scar. Quirrell and Voldemort were shoved through the veil of death by Harry, and the Unspeakables confirmed the prophecy was fulfilled.

Harry went on to work part time at his adoptive grandpa Abe's bar, and volunteering at a dragon preserve in Romania the rest of the time. The Scorpion group that stole the Philosopher's Stone was eventually brought to ground by an ICW task force, and the Stone itself destroyed in the fight.

* * *

"Wow. There are no words that can describe how much you fucked up, Albus Dumbledore."

Albus was currently sitting in the office of a woman who had identified herself as Gillian Rosenthal, Reaper 3rd Class.

"I did not intend such an occurence, Miss Rosenthal."

"Be that as it may, it still happened. Whether it was your intention or not is inconsequential. Anyway, the final tally is in. Sorry, old boy, but your sins outweigh the good you did. Quite frankly, the boss could make a very good case for you being indirectly responsible for World War Two, which puts the blood of six million more people on your hands. Be grateful he chose not to. As it is, you'll be heading straight for hell anyway, but it'll be a lesser punishment for you."

* * *

A/N: Well that escalated quickly. Hope you enjoyed, and don't forget to review. Thanks for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: This idea came from a scene in someone else's story, where Harry tries the same thing and fails. Full credit to them, whoever they were, for a brilliant idea.

* * *

Tom Riddle was crowing inwardly at how easily he had taken over the blood-traitor's mind. The Weasley girl was foolish, an inexperienced little girl still caught up in her idiotically ridiculous notions of good and evil, still enamoured with her dream of a knight in shining armour sweeping her off her feet and falling in love with her. He scoffed. Love was weak, too pure, too easily tainted, too easily destroyed, or used against a person. Love made a person weak, and that was why he would never succumb to such a weakness.

But he was ignoring his task. He stood inside the Chamber of Secrets, preparing to once again unleash Salazar Slytherin's basilisk, and purge the school of the mudblood taint. Well, he didn't personally stand there. Until he had leeched enough of the girl's soul to allow him to return to a body, he was forced to inhabit the bratty little bitch's body. But soon, he would complete his mission, rip the life out of the foolish girl, and once again hold all of Wizarding Britain in his grasp.

 _"Speak to me, Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts Four!"_

The enormous statue of Slytherin's head opened it's mouth, and the basilisk held in stasis began stirring, the spells keeping it nourished dissolving as it awoke and moved to enter the Chamber, ready to do the bidding of the Slytherin line. Tom closed the girl's eyes and took three steps backwards, smirking slightly when he heard the scrape of the basilisk's scales moving across the tiled floor of Salazar's Chamber.

 _"Who comes?"_

 _"I am Slytherin's Heir, master of this Chamber and all within it. Acknowledge me, and obey."_

The basilisk reached out it's head and sniffed at him. This was the same procedure as when he first awoke the beast, and was apparently the beast checking his blood claim was true. He felt no fear; the basilisk had always acknowledged his claim, and this time would be no different.

 _"False claimant! You bear no blood of Slytherin! Die!"_

The basilisk lunged for him, and Riddle was forced to throw himself to the side, cursing as he tried desperately to figure out why his blood wasn't acceptable to the beast. And then the penny dropped, and he could have kicked himself for being so stupid. Of course the damned beast wouldn't accept his blood claim, he wasn't in his own body, so the blood in this body's veins had no connection to the Slytherin line.

Throwing himself out of the way of the beast's fangs once again, Riddle snatched up the girl's wand, dropping the diary - _journal, damn it!_ \- that he had made into his first Horcrux as he did so, and bringing it to bear as the monster turned to attack him again. With one almighty swing, a blade of crackling orange energy sliced into the beast's hide, slicing it's head off it's body. Panting from the exertion of channeling so much magic through a core that had not yet matured fully, he didn't see the basilisk's head fall on top of the diary until one of the fangs pierced it, corrosive venom burning through the pages, destroying every protection he had placed on it.

Screaming in agony, he felt his control over the girl's body slipping, and she fell to her knees, the twin cracks that indicated they were broken echoing loudly off the Chamber's walls. The last thing he did before fading away into the world beyond the Veil of Death, was to curse Harry Potter, as he was sure that somehow, it was all the boy's fault. He refused to even countenance the thought that he could be responsible for his own downfall. The diary leaked out a thick, tar-like substance, one final scream of unending agony ripped free from Riddle's lips, and silence fell over the Chamber of Secrets.

A flash of flames appeared at the front entrance to the Chamber, and Albus Dumbledore stepped forward, surveying everything with an unhappy look on his face. Fawkes stayed back, unwilling to do anything unless the old man who had trapped him with binding spells ordered him to do it directly. Dumbledore walked over to the diary, nudging it with his wand and casting various esoteric spells upon it. Scoffing in disgust, he stood up and walked over to Ginny, pickiing her up and ordering Fawkes to take them to the Hospital Wing.

* * *

A/N: There we go, a look at what could have happened if the basilisk obeyed those with Slytherin's blood, rather than those who speak Parseltongue. And a hint of a manipulative, possibly evil Dumbledore, too. To be honest, I don't know where he came from. I needed someone to get Ginny out of the Chamber, and Dumbledore just barged right in there. Hope you enjoyed the chapter, and please review. P.S. Here's an omake of what I originally planned for this chapter. It's a bit darker.

* * *

The basilisk lunged for him, and Riddle was forced to throw himself to the side, cursing as he tried desperately to figure out why his blood wasn't acceptable to the beast. And then the penny dropped, and he could have kicked himself for being so stupid. Of course the damned beast wouldn't accept his blood claim, he wasn't in his own body, so the blood in this body's veins had no connection to the Slytherin line.

Turning as he drew the girl's wand, he realized his mistake a second too late, and didn't even have time to scream in terror as the beast's jaws closed around the girl's upper body, ripping her in half and killing both of them instantly.


End file.
